


Noted

by captainmazzic (lordtarantula)



Series: The Sith Tribunal AU [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Dark Side Positivity, Gen, Jedi Critical, references to past off-screen torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:46:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23845441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordtarantula/pseuds/captainmazzic
Summary: A snippet of events that happen while Jedi Master Burdock Heilon is staying aboard Adrestin's ship, the Archon Red.Takes place after chapter 46 of Opening Dialogue, after the short Hospitality, and after the events of Establishing an Accord (naturally, as that's where we have Heilon and Mordeo's story).
Series: The Sith Tribunal AU [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/990054
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Noted

The man’s grip on the ledge, Adrestin noticed, was precarious at best. He scrabbled and scraped against the loose stones and scraggly roots at the edge of the cliff, one leg kicking out to fend off the questing advances of the many tentacles belonging to the Vixus far below.

Adrestin crouched down and rested his wrists on his knees. “Having some difficulty, Master Jedi? Perhaps you should not have been attempting to follow me.”

Heilon scowled up at him, then yelped in surprise as one of the ropey limbs from the Vixus managed to whip itself around his ankle. Even his furrowed brow and blinding presence in the Force couldn’t hide the growing hollow of fear behind his eyes. “Are you –” He kicked again at the pressure around his leg, but the creature refused to detach. His tenuous grip on the cliffside rocks slipped further. “Are you going to help me up, or not?”

One set of eyebrows raised, and Adrestin cocked his head to one side. “Oh, but why would I do that?”

Heilon’s eyes grew wide, and his mouth hung open for a fraction of a second before he snapped it shut. “Quit joking around, _Belus_. We all know you promised Ikalruq that you wouldn’t harm any of his associates. Give me your hand. You can wash it off later if it makes you feel better – ah!” He squawked again as a second tentacle reinforced the first, and he slipped another half a meter down the side of the cliff. _“Belus! Now!”_

But the Sith Lord only tapped the scales on his chin with one claw. “I never made such a promise. I gave him my word that I would harm no one that he _cared about,_ and those are two very, _very,_ different things.” He smirked. “And doing nothing is not… _entirely_ the same as actively causing harm.”

The fear sparked into terror in Heilon’s gut, and he had to swallow down his shock at Adrestin’s words. “If you’re thinking of just leaving me here –”

Adrestin stood abruptly, all four eyes flaring with Dark Side corruption. A smile that was all teeth spread across his face, and he took one step back from the edge. “That is exactly what I am going to do. Goodbye, Master Heilon. I hear Vixus are particularly ravenous this time of year. Good luck.”

He turned and walked away.

\---

“Whoa, HeiHei, what happened to you? You look like shit.”

The Jedi Master threw a glare over at Darth Cinaede, but didn’t pause in limping across the ship’s common area. “Why don’t you ask our esteemed host. He’s the one who left me there.”

Cin tilted her head and blinked wide eyes at him. “It’s Adrestin’s fault? Somehow I doubt that. If he wanted to kriff you up you’d be dead.”

The glare turned into a deep scowl, and Heilon rested a hand on the threshold to the hallway leading to the crew’s quarters to steady himself. “I didn’t say he _attacked_ me, I said he _left_ me.”

“Huh.” Cin yawned and stretched, all languid nonchalance and unconcern. “Whatever. You’re dripping blood on his floor.”

Heilon heaved an irritated sigh and limped down the hall without bothering to respond. But he was forced to stop dead in his tracks as Sivin came careening out of the door to Adrestin’s quarters, laughing and dangling four empty mugs by their handles on the fingers of one hand. “Okay okay! It won’t happen again! Washing them now!” He hopped into the hallway and almost made a dash for the galley, but froze when he spotted Heilon. He nearly dropped his mugs. _“Stars,_ Heilon! What happened to you?”

Behind Sivin, Adrestin’s hulking frame leaned against the open door. A single eyebrow raised. “Yes, Master Jedi, what did indeed happen? I see you… survived. After a fashion.”

Sivin glanced from one to the other. “I’m missing something. What happened? Wait… Adrestin… did you…?”

The Sith Lord’s reply was a half shrug. “I care nothing for what happens to Master Heilon, Siv. I did not assault him, but I cannot say the same for the Vixus he was tangling with when I last saw him yesterday evening.”

Heilon’s eyes narrowed, and his voice was a hiss. “You. _Left._ Me. You were perfectly capable of pulling me away from that wretched beast and you did _nothing.”_ He jabbed a finger up at Adrestin. “I had to practically _drag_ myself back here, no thanks to you. I had no speeder, no comlink, and you just _left_ me there to _die.”_

Another eyebrow shot up. “Your lack of communication or traveling equipment is not my concern.”

“And apparently nothing else is either.” He turned to Sivin, still pointing an accusing finger at Adrestin. “Your… your Sith Lord _friend_ would have been perfectly happy to allow a wild animal to make an attempt at consuming me, and didn’t even make the _slightest_ effort to assist! Instead he left me there, dangling from a cliff and about to be eaten by a mindless beast. I nearly _died_ out there. If I hadn’t had my lightsaber with me, I _would_ have.”

Sivin’s eyes grew wide, and he glanced up at Adrestin. “Is that true?”

Adrestin met his gaze with no remorse or pity. He didn’t even shrug. “Yes.”

“So much for his _promises,”_ Heilon snarled. “I have been saying this from the beginning, Ikalruq. You cannot _trust_ him.”

Sivin sighed and pinched the skin between his eyes. “Heilon…”

“ _What?”_

He shook his head. “Don’t… don’t do that. It won’t work.”

Heilon blinked. “What?”

“Pitting me against Adrestin. Twisting things around. It won’t work. It didn’t work when you first came aboard and it won’t work now. Look…” He reached forward and offered Heilon his arm. “Let’s get you to the med bay and fix you up. We’ll talk.”

“Oh, this is going to be rich, I can tell.” But he resigned himself to the helping hand and leaned on Sivin as he escorted him to another door.

\---

A few moments later with mugs deposited on the infirmary counter, and Sivin eased Heilon onto the examination bench. He slid open the drawer containing bacta patches, and helped Heilon ease off the tattered remains of his Jedi robes.

“So, here’s the thing,” he said quietly, still mostly focused on cleaning Heilon’s wounds. “It’s shocking, I know, but I am well aware that Adrestin is a Sith Lord. I _know_ he doesn’t abide most Jedi. I also know he doesn’t have very much patience or goodwill towards _you,_ in particular. I _know_ that, and I accepted it a long time ago.”

Heilon’s face slipped back into a scowl. “And yet he has made promises to you, that –”

Sivin held up a hand. “Nope. Don’t go there. That promise was _extremely_ specific. I know what he meant by it, _he_ knows what he meant by it, and I’m going to be very bluntly honest with you and tell you that _you aren’t it_.”

Heilon could do nothing but stare blankly up at Sivin, dumbfounded.

Siv sighed. “Look. He’s drawn a line that he will not cross. And that line is causing harm to the people that mean a great deal to me, on a close, personal level. My friends, those I consider my family. People I feel responsible for. He won’t hurt anyone who falls into that very narrow category. Everyone else…” He shook his head. “He may have gone beyond his nature as a Sith in making that promise to me, but he is, and always _will_ be, Sith. He’s steeped in violence, and even I can’t change that.”

He paused long enough to apply a series of bacta patches to the worst of Heilon’s injuries. Turning back to the drawers to find some final gauze, he made a gesture back in the direction of the common area. “When Adrestin volunteered that promise to me, I was utterly floored. I never asked for it. He just… gave it to me, because he _cares_ about me. He didn’t have to, it wasn’t expected, but he did it anyway. There’s no way in the nine Corellian _hells_ I’m going to take your bait and use that promise against him.”

“Even though I could have died out there?”

Sivin gritted his teeth, but nodded. Once. “Honestly, Heilon. Adrestin is quite aware that there’s no love lost between us.”

“So his promise just doesn’t apply.”

“…No.”

Heilon seethed. “And you’re _okay_ with this?”

The hesitation in Sivin was only evident for the briefest of moments, but he shook his head. “It is what it is. I don’t have to like it.”

“I don’t believe this.” Heilon thrust a finger up at Sivin’s face. “You are perfectly fine with allowing your pet Sith Lord to harm other Jedi so long as they aren’t close to _you –”_

Sivin’s head came up, eyes narrowed. “Did he harm you, Heilon?”

“N – No. But a crime of neglect is still –”

“Your life has been spared countless times since you insisted on accompanying us. He has put up with your constant badgering, your incessant harassment of Mordeo, your disrespect and your belittling of everything from Dom’s own personal life choices to the food Adrestin makes for you, he’s tolerated your complaints and self-righteous speeches, he has _bodily shielded you_ from other Sith Lords that you have deliberately offended – and yet you have the _balls_ to tell me that you, an armed and seasoned Jedi Master _on the Jedi Council and patron of our most elite assault forces,_ can’t be responsible enough for your own safety when you, of your own volition, went out to spy on Adrestin’s trek across the surface of an unfamiliar planet? Please, tell me again how your blunder into a Vixus nest is _his fault.”_

Heilon’s mouth opened once, twice, then snapped shut and he stared fixedly at the far wall. If Siv hadn’t known any better, he would have thought he’d seen Heilon flinch.

Neither one of them said another word as Sivin finished patching him up. Heilon’s gaze remained fastened on the wall, and only broke when Sivin patted him lightly on his least-injured shoulder. “You’re done.”

“…Thank you.” His words were soft.

“Right. I can grab you one of the containers of leftovers in the galley if you’re hungry, but I’d suggest getting some rest.”

“Mm.” A nod.

“Okay.” Sivin straightened up and cracked his back. “I’ll wash these mugs up and then I’ll bring the food to your quarters.”

“…Sivin.”

He tilted his head, tendrils flopping with the motion. “Yeah?”

“I have known you a long time, and you have never spoken to me like that before.”

Sivin’s face grew sheepish, but only for a moment. “Well… all due respect, Master Heilon, but…”

“Yes?”

“Frankly, you’re being an idiot. I deal with idiocy directly.”

Heilon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “…Noted.”

\---

As usual with Adrestin’s food, even the leftover meal was rich and hearty, and there was plenty of it. Heilon sat at the desk in his quarters, staring at his datapad and mechanically chewing his slow roasted shataul brisket and baked denta beans. He registered the door sliding open but didn’t bother to look up, assuming it was either Cinaede or Astele, there only to make snide remarks as seemed to be their proclivity.

But to his surprise it was Mordeo’s soft voice he heard, and he turned to see the skinny Sith leaning against the door jamb with arms crossed, a small green bottle clutched in one hand. “Guess even _you’re_ not invincible.” His eyes flicked over Heilon’s frame, and he snorted. “That Vixus did a number on you.”

Pushing away from his desk, Heilon spun around in his chair until he was facing Mordeo. “It did, but I survived. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company? You don’t often seek me out.”

Mordeo rolled his eyes. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit a Jedi Master, Heilon.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic. I enjoy your company, on the rare occasion you let me have it.”

“Whatever.” He sighed and picked at the fabric on one sleeve. “Didn’t sound like the others really checked in on you. Figured _someone_ should.”

Heilon frowned. “What do you mean? Ikalruq already had me in the infirmary.”

“That’s not what I’m wondering about.” He gestured to the inside of Heilon’s quarters. “Like hell do I enjoy being alone with you, but can I come in?”

Heilon’s gut clenched involuntarily at the question, but he tried to ignore it as he waved Mordeo in. “Of course.”

The mechanical _click-click_ of Mordeo’s cybernetic ankles as he cleared the door made Heilon internally flinch. An ever-present reminder of the violence he had so regrettably rendered to the little Sith. He rose from his chair and offered it to Mordeo, opting to sit on the side of his bed instead. “What _were_ you wondering about, then?”

“It clearly bit you, multiple times. The Vixus.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sure you’ve already noticed the toxins in its saliva and tentacles making your muscles stiff. But Vixus venom is also mildly hallucinogenic. You haven’t tried to sleep yet, have you?”

Heilon shook his head. “I only just finished dinner.”

“Then I suggest you don’t sleep for a while. There was a colony of introduced Vixus at the outpost I was stationed at, and I’ve seen what an encounter with them can do to a person. The dreams are… vivid, if the thrashing and cold sweats of my affected associates is anything to go by. And I know dreams.”

Again, an internal flinch. Heilon was well aware of the nightmares he himself had induced in Mordeo, from the weeks-long torture that he had put him through. “I don’t suppose anything lessens the effect.”

Mordeo leaned forward and thrust the small green bottle in his hand towards Heilon. “Tincture of Dukaaba root. Two or three drops on your tongue every four to five hours should dull the hallucinatory effects. It won’t quell them completely, but it’s supposed to help. Should also ease the soreness of the muscles.”

“…Thank you.” Heilon took the proffered bottle and turned it over in his hand, inspecting the label. “This is from… Darth Aranea…?”

“Mm. If it’s from a plant, she has it. Once I heard what happened to you I asked her if she had it. I remembered it working for my associates back at the outpost.”

“Thank you, again.” And he meant it. “I appreciate your concern.”

Mordeo scowled and flicked his wormy tendrils away from his face. “Don’t assume it’s charity. You’re forgetting that my quarters are just across the hall. If you start screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night, I’m going to get woken up.”

Heilon sighed. “Right. Forget I said anything.”

“If only.” Mordeo got to his feet and returned to the door, the mechanics in his ankles whirring softly. “Don’t take more than three drops in five hours, or it’ll dump your ass into a coma.”

Heilon blinked. “Noted.”

\---

Heilon’s sleep that night was anything but restful. Vague, blurry images and an uneasy sense of foreboding made him toss and turn, And he awoke several times in the night. But he did manage to get _some_ sleep, at least enough to give him the bare minimum of energy he needed to drag himself out of bed the next morning.

He sat at the galley’s table, strong black caf in one hand and face planted in the crook of his elbow. How Darth Belus managed to get up so _early_ every single day to make caf completely escaped him, and yet it was always hot and ready whenever he awoke. If “awake” could describe what Heilon was, at the moment. He almost considered adding to his caf a half a dozen drops of the tincture Mordeo had given him just so he could experience the blissful unawareness of that coma.

But he had to make do with appreciating the fact that there had been a note tacked on the cooling unit in the galley, stating that Darth Erion had taken their apprentice Astele outside the ship for practice, and Darth Cinaede and the ex-Jedi Domthus had tagged along. Which left him Aranea, forever sequestered in her ship attached to the _Archon Red_ , Sivin Ikalruq, who was probably still sound asleep in Adrestin’s quarters, and Adrestin himself, the giant draconic thorn in Heilon’s side. But aside from the caf-preparation evidence that Adrestin was already up and about, there was no sign of him on the rest of the ship. Which meant that he was probably in his quarters, nestled up against the borderline-traitorous Jedi and reading one of his abominations he called Sith texts.

And there was also Mordeo. But the scrawny Thradian Sith had made himself scarce ever since he had given Heilon the tincture last night, and Heilon doubted he would even see one wormy tendril of the man if Mordeo had his way. Though Heilon had attempted on a frequent basis over these past several weeks to engage Mordeo in some sort of positive interaction, his attempts at reconciliation had always been consistently rebuffed. He had hoped that last night would be an opportunity to make some headway, but Mordeo’s terse words and quick retreat had squelched that hope.

But today was a new day, and perhaps he could cajole the prickly Sith into at least one more neutral conversation.

But that wasn’t going to happen if he couldn’t get a handle on this fuzzy, woozy headache. He slowly raised his head just a few centimeters from the cool marble of the table and rubbed at his temples with two fingers of each hand.

The galley door slid open. _Speak of the sand devil and he shall appear,_ Heilon thought, but all he could manage was a bleary-eyed nod in Mordeo’s general direction.

The Sith had froze in place the moment he had entered, clearly surprised to see Heilon there. But with an audible swallow he finally peeled himself away from the threshold and made a deliberate beeline for the caf dispenser. Heilon watched him with one half-lidded eye, wondering idly if the brightness of the lights could possibly be adjusted. Mordeo’s back was to him, also probably a deliberate move. Heilon rubbed at his temples once more before clearing his throat. “Do the side effects of that tincture include a morning-after migraine of capital starship proportions?”

“Hn.” With caf poured to the brim into one of Adrestin’s mugs that was practically the size of Mordeo’s entire head, he turned to rest his elbows on the counter and regard Heilon with narrowed eyes. He took a sip before bothering to answer. “If you don’t want it, give it back.”

Already off to a great start. Heilon sighed. “I was not criticizing the gift.”

“And yet, you speak.”

It was far too early to deal with even the most minor of verbal barbs. Heilon let out a faint groan and plopped his head back into the crook of his elbow. He thought he heard a chuckle coming from Mordeo’s direction, but he didn’t have the energy to raise his head again to verify.

A few cupboards rattled open and then closed again, then the sound of running water. A moment later, and Heilon felt a tap on his shoulder. He managed to peek one eye out from the merciful darkness of his arm, and blinked in surprise at the hand held out to him. He finally raised his chin.

Mordeo’s palm was held up and flat, offering a pair of small white capsules. He’d set a glass of water on the table next to Heilon’s arm. “Painkillers. Adrestin keeps them in the upper left cabinet if you need more later. And drink more water than caf, or you’ll make your headache worse.”

Heilon took the pills from Mordeo, probably letting his fingers linger on his hand a little longer than necessary, but at least Mordeo didn’t recoil. “Thank you.”

“Those words sound like forbidden language coming from you. Weird getting them two days in a row.”

Heilon mechanically swallowed the pills and downed the entire glass of water before reaching again for his cup of caf. “Despite what you seem to insist on believing, I can, in fact, express gratitude.”

Heilon could swear he saw one corner of Mordeo’s mouth twitch upward, but it might have been a trick of the too-bright light. “Galactic wonders. Next you’ll be telling me that Jedi Masters can learn critical thinking skills.”

Heilon was about to snap at him, when he realized that that time Mordeo’s mouth actually _did_ twitch upwards into a fleeting, fraction-of-a-second smile. Was that his idea of joking with him? If so, he’d take it. He flashed Mordeo a half-smile of his own. “Never heard of it. Perhaps I should take a course.”

And then the entirely unexpected happened, and Mordeo actually barked a _laugh._ It was short and sharp, but there was genuine amusement behind it. “Careful, Heilon. You might be cultivating a sense of humor.”

“Perhaps Cinaede’s doling out her surplus. She certainly has enough to go around.”

Miracle of all miracles, Heilon received another snicker. “If you start adopting Cin’s sense of humor, I will personally chuck you out the nearest airlock.”

“We’re planetside, Mordeo.”

The fleeting quirk of his mouth transformed into a wry grin. “How fortunate for you.”

Heilon couldn’t help but mirror Mordeo’s smile as he turned his focus back down to his cup of caf. “…Perhaps I am. In a few ways.”

Mordeo’s grin faded. “Meaning?”

Heilon could have kicked himself. “Pay it no mind.”

But Mordeo’s suspicious nature reared its ugly head, and he drained his voluminous mug in one breath before slapping the mug into the sink and marching back to the door. He leveled one finger back at Heilon, eyes narrowed. “Don’t assume that a bit of levity and an offer of meds means that everything is sunny between us. I’m not your _friend,_ Heilon. I’m not even an _acquaintance._ I consider you an enemy, only one that I must tolerate while I am aboard this ship. I don’t easily forget _or_ forgive, unlike my hospitable colleagues. You have a _lot_ to answer for, and I will _never_ sweep that under the proverbial rug, no matter what you think a few words spoken in lightness may mean.” He turned on his cybernetic heels and slipped out the door.

Heilon squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead back down to the cool marble of the table. He heaved a weighty sigh. “…Noted.”

**Author's Note:**

> Being a self-absorbed and self-righteous Jedi Master aboard a Sith vessel isn't easy. Particularly not when he starts realizing just how important the opinion of one of those Sith actually is to him, lol. Too bad his opinion is So. Incredibly. Low. XD


End file.
